


Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

by introvertandproud



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt David Rossi, Hurt Spencer Reid, Parent David Rossi, but like, lika a lot, to a slightly lesser extent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25851442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/introvertandproud/pseuds/introvertandproud
Summary: They wanted to understand how this had happened, why it had happened, but if Dave knew that then he wouldn’t be blaming the hell out of himself. He couldn’t go any further. If he kept going, he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop. And if Reid... If Reid didn’t make it, then they would all have to carry the knowledge that he suffered profoundly in his final moments.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner & David Rossi, David Rossi & The BAU Team, Spencer Reid & David Rossi, Spencer Reid & The BAU Team
Comments: 78
Kudos: 357





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably a good time to let you all know that I am on FFN under the same name. Enjoy!

There were exactly one hundred and twenty-three floor tiles in his field of vision. Ninety-seven white ones and twenty-six teal ones arranged in a pattern reminiscent of a soccer ball. He should know, he had counted them seventeen times now.

Counting and recounting floor tiles may have been more Reid’s thing, but Dave needed something to take his mind of the kid. Washing the blood off of his hands may have taken some time, but it hadn’t taken long enough. He hadn’t even managed to get it all off. It was still caked under his fingernails.

It was on his clothes, too. Dave hadn’t exactly been thinking clearly when he had seen his own hands covered in his young friend’s blood. He had tried to wipe them off on his shirt and pants, effectively making himself look like a slasher movie villain.

Dave scratched absently at the bandaged cut on his temple as he stood up, wincing at the sharp pain in his ribs, resolving to pace the waiting room rather than sit in the uncomfortable plastic chair any longer. He glanced at the clock on the wall. 12:58 AM. Twenty minutes? That’s all it had been?

He looked back at the tiles. 

White. 

One, two, three, four, five. 

Teal. 

Six.

White.

Seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven.

Teal.

Twelve.

White.

Thirteen, fourteen, Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen.

Moonlight shining through the thick trees.

No, stop that. He wasn’t in those damn woods, he was in a hospital.

Teal.

Eighteen.

White.

Nineteen, twenty...

Frigid air biting into his skin. Bloody leaves under his knees. Hot blood under his hands...

Dave shook himself. Fuck, he was losing it.

He was in a hospital. He was in a damn hospital.

Dave sat back down and put his head in his hands. He closed his eyes, but all he could see was Reid’s slack face, too pale to still be alive...

“Dave?”

Dave looked up to find Hotch standing there, watching him with concern. He sat up.

“Yeah?”

Hotch eyed him.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Dave answered a little too quickly, “Any news?”

Hotch glanced at the floor.

“No.”

Dave nodded, dropping his eyes. Hotch took a seat in the chair next to his.

“Do you want to talk?”

Dave eyed him sideways.

“Are we going to have a therapy session?”

Hotch watched him with a sympathetic eye.

“Dave, you know it helps to talk about it.”

Dave pointed a finger at Hotch.

“You’re using my lines on me now?”

Hotch shrugged.

“Okay, I’ll talk.” Dave relented.

“Alright, start wherever is most comfortable.”

Dave smirked despite the situation. Hotch was using the voice that he reserved for victims on him. It was strange to be on its receiving end.

But now came the hard part. Dave took a deep breath.

“I was guest lecturing.”

•••

_ Dave smiled as the students applauded. He always enjoyed the adoration, even if his ego wasn’t exactly hurting for it.  _

_ The students had greatly enjoyed his seminar on paraphilias. Dave would have preferred if most of the audience questions hadn’t been about his books, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if Academy enrollment spiked that fall. _

_ Now to get out. Dave glanced at his watch. 7:46 PM. The seminar had run long. Many of the students wanted to thank him or shake his hand, but it was late and Dave still had a three and a half hour drive ahead of him. _

_ Dave made his way toward the exit, shaking hands as he went. Maybe he would stop by the dining hall and grab something for the road on his way out. His seminar had run through dinner and Dave would rather not wait until he got back to the District. Besides, he was tired and some coffee couldn’t hurt. _

_ Dave stifled a yawn as he pulled out the map of the campus that he had been given, looking over it for the dining hall as he walked.  _

_ “Rossi?” _

_ Dave looked up at the familiar voice and spotted Reid coming towards him. The kid looked more tired than he was. _

_ “What are you doing here?” the younger man asked. _

_ Dave gestured in the direction he had just come. _

_ “All day seminar, it ran late. You guest lecturing?” _

_ “Yeah, do you know where the dining hall is? I want to get some coffee before I head back to D.C.” _

_ Dave held up the map. _

_ “I was just looking for it.” He looked at the map again and pointed to a spot on it. “There it is,” Dave gestured to Reid’s right, “That way.” _

_ He and Reid walked towards the dining hall.  _

_ “What was you seminar about?” _

_ “Paraphilias,” Dave answered Reid’s question. “Your lecture?” _

_ “Psychopathology. How did your’s go?” _

_ Dave smiled. _

_ “The recruiters are going to be thanking me this fall.” _

_ Reid smirked at that. _

_ “Of course. They’ll be naming their firstborns after you.” _

_ Dave chuckled. _

_ “What about you? How was your’s?” _

_ They reached the dining hall and Reid held the door for Dave. _

_ “I don’t know.” _

_ “What do you mean?” _

_ Reid frowned. _

_ “I don’t think they liked it.” _

_ “Why do you think that was?”  _

_ Reid turned toward the coffee station. _

_ “When’s the last time you ate?” Dave asked, following him. _

_ “Breakfast... I think.” _

_ Dave took Reid’s forearms with a sigh and steered him toward the food. _

_ “Rossi–“ _

_ “You can’t live off coffee, kid. Besides, how much have you had, today?” _

_ Reid thought for a moment. _

_ “Twelve cups.” _

_ Dave blinked. _

_ “You’ve had enough.”  _

_ “But–“ _

_ “No ‘but’s.” _

_ Reid rolled his eyes. _

_ “Okay, dad,” he said, sarcastically. _

_ “Damn right, now get some food.” _

_ Dave watched with satisfaction as Reid picked up a sandwich. He poured a cup of coffee for himself. Reid watched him with a betrayed look. _

_ “Really?” _

_ “I have a long drive.” _

_ Reid scoffed. _

_ “Whatever.” _

_ Dave smirked and grabbed a sandwich for himself. _

_ “So, why do you think they didn’t like your lecture?” _

_ “Well, they looked at me like I was speaking Yoruba.” _

_ Dave nodded as he paid for his food. _

_ “Were you?” he asked, dryly. _

_ Reid scrunched his brow. _

_ “No.” _

_ “Don’t tell me you told a joke.” _

_ Reid paid with a furrowed brow. _

_ “I did, but I don’t think they got it. No one laughed.” _

_ “What was it?” _

_ Reid sighed. _

_ “Knock knock.” _

_ “Who’s there?” _

_ “Folie ád.” _

_ “Folie ád who?” _

_ “Folie á Deux. A common delusion shared between two people.” _

_ Dave frowned as they headed for the door. _

_ “That’s not bad.” _

_ “Then how come no one laughed?” _

_ “Did they know what Folie á Deux was?” _

_ Reid furrowed his brow. _

_ “I don’t think so.” _

_ Dave chuckled. Reid held the door again as they left the dining hall and walked toward the main entrance. _

_ “Rule number one of comedy, kid, know your audience.” _

_ Reid hung his head. Dave nudged Reid’s elbow. _

_ “Hey, at least you didn’t bring back a serial killer this time. I call that an improvement.” _

_ Reid smiled.  _

_ “How did you get here?” Dave asked when they walked through the gates. _

_ “The Metro. Why?” _

_ “You want a ride?” _

_ “No, that’s okay. You don’t have to–“ _

_ Dave stepped in front of him. _

_ “Kid, your apartment’s on the way to my house, besides it’ll be faster than the train. And you’ll be lucky if you’re still awake when you get to your stop.” _

_ “Well, if you had let me get coffee–“ _

_ Dave held up a hand to stop him. _

_ “Don’t start. C’mon.” _

_ Dave turned and walked off in the direction of his Cadillac, leaving no room for argument. He allowed himself a feeling of satisfaction when a quick look over his shoulder showed Reid following behind. _


	2. Chapter 2

“Where are they?” a feminine voice demanded from down the corridor.

Dave and Hotch stood as the owner of the voice, none other than a very distressed Penelope Garcia, entered the waiting room with Morgan, Prentiss, and JJ in tow. Dave figured that Hotch must have called them.

“Where are my Boy Wonder and Italian Stallion?”

“Reid’s in surgery,” Hotch told her.

Morgan spoke next.

“How bad?” He addressed the question to Dave, who sighed.

“Bad, last time I saw him.”

Morgan dropped his uneasy gaze. Prentiss pressed her lips together. Garcia pressed her hand to her mouth. JJ wore a concerned look. Dave watched them, sadly.

“But, he’s strong,” he added. “He’ll pull through.”

Morgan and JJ nodded, absently.

“I’ll see if I can find someone who can tell us something,” Prentiss said.

She laid a hand on Dave’s arm as she passed him on her way out. He gave her a weak smile. Garcia looked at him, sympathetically.

“Oh, you poor thing.”

She went to hug him but stopped short at the sight of his bloody clothes. Dave inwardly winced. He must look like a sight. It was probably more than a little frightening for the usually cheerful analyst.

“Are you okay?” she asked with a note of horror.

Dave put his hand on her arm in a comforting gesture.

“I’m fine, Penelope. It’s... not mine.”

Garcia’s eyes widened. JJ looked nauseated. Another internal wince. As if they weren’t frightened enough.

“Oh,” Garcia said quietly.

“I‘ll have a change of clothes brought for you,” Hotch put in.

Dave sheepishly nodded his thanks.

“Rossi.” JJ drew his attention. “Hotch told us about the accident, but... what happened?”

Dave sighed. They would force him to talk about this one way or another. He indicated the chairs.

“Sit.”

He sat and the team gathered around him.

“So, Reid and I were on the road.”

•••

_Reid was slumped in the passenger seat, snoring softly as Dave drove. The older man spared a quick glance at the sleeping kid beside him and smiled. It was good to see him get some rest. God knows he needed it. Besides, the way his face scrunched up when he slept was very cute, not that Dave would ever say that to Reid’s face._

_Dave look a quick look at the dashboard clock. 10:53 PM. They had been driving for three hours now, but still had about thirty minutes left to go. The drive should have been shorter, but Dave had opted to take a slightly longer route to avoid traffic. This one was more out of the way with a hill on one side and a downward slope on the other, surrounded by trees._

_Dave winced when the car hit a bump and Reid stirred in his seat._

_“Where are we?” he asked, blinking a few times to clear the sleep from his eyes._

_“Just passed Woodbridge. We’re almost there.”_

_Reid nodded, staring out the windshield with tired eyes._

_“How did you sleep?” Dave spoke again._

_“Good. I was really tired.”_

_Dave couldn’t resist._

_“Now imagine if you were on the Metro.”_

_Reid shot him a sideways glance. Dave smiled, unapologetically._

_“We’ve still got another half hour. Why don’t you go back to sleep?”_

_Reid shook his head._

_“No, I’m awake, now.”_

_“You up for some music?”_

_Reid sat up straighter._

_“Okay.”_

_Dave took his eyes off the road for a second to reach for the radio. Reid followed his hand with his eyes._

_“Did you know that there were over 419,000 vehicular accidents caused by distracted driving last year?”_

_Dave eyed Reid out of the corner of his eye._

_“I only took my eyes off the road for a second.”_

_“Sometimes a second is all it takes,” Reid remarked with a touch of sarcasm._

_“Do not make me pull this car over.”_

_Reid smiled to himself._

•••

“That sounds like Reid.”

Dave paused as Prentiss returned to the waiting room and took a seat next to JJ.

“Could they tell you anything?” JJ asked her, anxiously.

Prentiss shook her head.

“No,” she said with a troubled look.

JJ looked at the floor and Prentiss put a hand on her knee.

Dave watched them. They were already anxious enough. They didn’t need to hear the gory details. It certainly wouldn’t help them.

They wanted the full story, and Dave knew that that was because they wanted to understand. They wanted to understand how this had happened, why it had happened. But if Dave knew that, then he wouldn’t be blaming the hell out of himself.

He couldn’t go any further. If he kept going, he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop. And if Reid... If Reid didn’t make it, then they would all have to carry the knowledge that he suffered profoundly in his final moments.

No. For their sake, he had to stop.

Now he would have to explain that to them. All he had to do was repeat all that to them as gently as possible. Easy.

“I’m going to get a coffee,” Dave ground out and made a hasty retreat from the room.

The coward’s way out. Nice one.

Dave could imagine the worried faces of his teammates as he walked aimlessly down the corridor. One of them would probably come after him. Most likely Hotch, maybe Prentiss. Perhaps he should find the cafeteria and actually get a coffee to play off his moment of panic. Not that it would lessen his teammates’ worry at all. Damn profilers.

“Dave.”

Dammit.

Dave stopped his wandering and turned around. Hotch eyed him with concern.

“Are you alright?”

“You already asked that.”

“And you lied.”

Damn profilers.

“What do you want me to say, Aaron?”

“I want you to get this off your chest, Dave. You need this.”

Dave heaved a sigh and looked at the floor.

“I don’t want them to have to hear this, Aaron,” Dave told him, pointing vaguely in the direction of the waiting room.

Hotch watched him with a steady gaze.

“Why not?”

Why not? Was he serious?

“Because they’re going to want answers.” Dave’s voice rose as his frustration built. “And I don’t–“

Dave cut himself off as his voice cracked with emotion.

Fucking cracked.

He shut his eyes tightly and took a steadying breath, then looked back at Hotch.

“And I don’t have them,” he finished weakly.

“Dave,” Hotch looked him in the eyes, voice serious. “No one blames you.”

Damn fucking profilers.

Dave dropped his gaze to floor again, eyes burning.

He wouldn’t cry. Not in front of Hotch. Not in front of the team. He was supposed to be strong for them, not the other way around. Dave blinked away the threatening moisture and met Hotch’s eyes.

“They should.”

“No,” Hotch said, vehemently. “They shouldn’t. There was nothing you could have done, Dave.”

Hotch stepped closer to him.

“You kept him alive until help arrived.” Hotch gripped his shoulder. “He has a chance because of you. You need to believe that.”

Dave knew Hotch was right. If he hadn’t been there, Reid would have bled to death, or worse, before anyone found him.

But David Rossi was an extraordinarily stubborn man with a massive guilt complex, and he would be damned if Hotch’s speech, however impassioned, relieved him of all self-blame. Nonetheless, he nodded.

“Okay.”

Hotch allowed a ghost of a smile to cross his face.

“Good, now let’s get back in there.”

“Alright.”

Dave stared after Hotch for a moment before he followed him. It was odd to hear the speech that he so often gave to his teammates from the other side.

They returned to the waiting room and took their seats, the others watching them with concerned looks. Dave drew a breath and spoke.

“Where were we?”

•••

_Dave scanned through the radio stations, finding only static on every one._

_“It’s a spotty signal here, you might not be able to find anything,” Reid said._

_“No way.” Dave continued to scan the stations. “We are not sitting in awkward silence for the next half hour.”_

_A station finally yielded something other than white noise and the opening notes of a somewhat staticky_ Smoke Gets In Your Eyes _drifted into the car._

They asked me how I knew

My true love was true

_“We could have found something to talk about,” Reid spoke._

_“You can always find something to talk about, kid.”_

I of course replied

Something here inside cannot be denied

_“I can do small talk,” Reid insisted, indignantly. “What are you doing this weekend?”_

_Dave glanced at Reid with amusement._

They said "someday you'll find all who love are blind"

When your heart's on fire, You must realize,

_“I was planning on getting some writing done. What about you? Any plans?”_

_“No.”_

Smoke gets in your eyes

_Reid frowned as the car did, in fact, settle into an awkward silence._

_Dave chuckled._

So I chaffed them and I gaily laughed

To think they could doubt my love

_A large pickup truck rounded a corner ahead of them, coming from the opposite direction. It swerved back and forth within the lines._

Yet today my love has flown away,

I am without my love

_“What is this guy doing?”_

_Dave and Reid watched the truck warily._

Now laughing friends deride

_The truck sped up._

Tears I cannot hide

_It swerved into their lane, heading straight for them._

So I smile and say

_“Rossi!” Reid shouted._

When a lovely flame dies,

_Dave jerked the wheel to avoid the impending crash._

_He wasn’t fast enough._

_The truck’s front end smashed into their side._

Smoke gets in your eyes

_A screech of metal on metal._

_A brief feeling of weightlessness._

_A jarring collision of the front bumper against an unmoving object._

_A hard impact of his head on the window._

Smoke gets in your eyes

_Darkness._


	3. Chapter 3

He looked as bad as he thought he did. He looked worse.

His face was haggard and pale. His eyes were bloodshot and had heavy bags under them. There was still a bit of blood in his hair near the bandage.

In short, he looked like shit.

And that was just his face.

Dave tried not to look at his clothes which probably held a decent percentage of Reid’s blood volume. But, of course, that was all that he could look at.

It was no wonder that Penelope had been frightened, he was pretty damn frightened himself.

“Dave?”

Hotch’s voice carried through the bathroom door accompanied by a knock and Dave flinched as he was pulled from his dark thoughts.

“Come in.”

He turned away from the mirror as Hotch opened the door partway and held out a bag.

“I had Anderson bring you a change of clothes.”

Dave frowned.

“At one in the morning?”

Hotch shrugged.

“He’s always on call just like the rest of us.”

Dave took the bag.

“That kid deserves a raise just for putting up with our shit.”

Hotch nodded and was about to close the door, when he spoke again.

“And you should know, I had Kevin Lynch run the plate number you gave me.”

Dave’s ears perked.

“Yeah?”

“We tracked down the driver. He said that he fell asleep at the wheel. He’s being charged with fleeing the scene of an accident.”

Dave felt a stab of anger. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was that simple. Reid could have died for nothing. How was he supposed to reconcile that?

“Dave, did you hear me?”

Dave forced himself back to the present. Anger was not going to help Reid right now.

“Yeah, I heard you. Thanks.”

Hotch nodded again and left.

Dave set the bag on the counter and reached for the buttons on his shirt. The blood once again became the center of his attention. There was more of it than he thought there was. How much blood could cover his hands?

Dave shook himself.

If he took too long, his teammates would worry about him.

He started to undo the buttons, looking anywhere but the blood.

He would definitely be burning these clothes later.

The team looked up when he returned to the waiting room, now wearing a long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants. He stopped a few steps away as they watched him with concern.

He must have taken too long.

“Well, go ahead, everyone get their pictures,” he quipped.

They all averted their eyes, self-consciously.

Dave took his seat among them.

“Where did we leave off?”

“You and Reid just crashed,” Morgan answered him.

Dave sighed.

“Right.”

Here was where it would get ugly.

Dave had let Hotch convince him to keep telling his story, but...

“Penelope,” Dave addressed Garcia, “why don’t you go get a coffee?”

Garcia had a hard time looking at crime scene photos of strangers. Dave couldn’t bear making her listen to him describe Reid’s condition in vivid detail.

She must have understood, because she nodded.

“Okay,” she said uncertainly and Dave gave her hand a squeeze.

She left the room and Dave faced Hotch.

“I didn’t want her to have to hear this next part. It’s not good.”

•••

Smoke gets in your eyes.

_Why was that his first thought?_

_What happened?_

_His head was splitting and his face felt wet._

_Probably blood, so probably a concussion._

_An object was pushing against his chest and his ribs were on fire._

_Probably cracked, maybe broken._

_An acrid smell reached his nose._

_Dave opened his eyes and blinked as something stung at them. Smoke?_

Smoke gets in your eyes.

_Huh._

_Wait..._

_Smoke._

_Fire._

_Fuck._

_Everything came back to him at once._

_The truck, the slope, the crash._

_The unmoving object that the car had smashed into was a tree._

_The object on his chest was the steering wheel._

_There was something else._

_Someone else._

_He hadn’t been alone when he’d crashed._

_Reid._

_He hadn’t heard anything from him._

_“Reid?”_

_“I’m here,” a wavering voice answered him. Dave sagged in relief. “I think the car’s on fire.”_

_Dave unfastened his seatbelt with clumsy fingers._

_“Can you get out?”_

_“No, I’m stuck.”_

_Dave looked at Reid. The crunched dashboard was pressing into his stomach, effectively trapping his legs._

_“Okay, I’m coming. I’ll get you out.”_

_Reid nodded shakily, eyes shining with fear._

_That look tore at Dave’s heart._

_Dave opened the door, saying a silent prayer of thanks that it could still open, and tried to slide out from between the steering wheel and the seat._

_His ribs screamed as he moved, but he didn’t stop, he couldn’t. Reid needed him._

_Dave finally dumped himself out onto the leaves. Something shifted in his side when he hit the ground, and he failed to bite back a sound of pain._

_“Rossi?” Reid called._

_“I’m fine, kiddo.” Dave had a feeling that his voice contradicted his words._

_At least one of his ribs was definitely broken, but he had to get up. He had to get to Reid._

_Using the car to pull himself up, Dave moved around to the passenger side._

_The fire was growing. He had to work fast._

•••

“I’m sorry!”

The team looked up as Garcia walked into the waiting room, six coffees in hand.

“I couldn’t stay away.”

She started to hand out the coffees while Dave watched her. He hadn’t even gotten to the worst part yet. He didn’t want her to hear that.

“Thank you, Penelope,” he said when she handed him his, “but are you sure you want to hear this?

Garcia took her seat by Morgan.

“I can’t be away from you guys right now,” she told him. “I can take it, sir.”

Dave looked at her sadly. He admired her strength. He didn’t want her to have to listen to this, but there was nothing he could do to stop her.

And she wasn’t the only one. Every member of his team was dead set on staying put. Dave knew now that it was foolish for him to have thought that they blamed him. They weren’t here for answers. They were here because they loved Reid, and because they loved him.

He nodded.

“Okay.”

•••

_Dave pulled the door open, whispering another thankful prayer that it wasn’t jammed, and finally got a look at Reid._

_The kid met his eyes with a fearful gaze. His pupils were two different sizes. A detail which complimented the bloody gash on his brow._

_He and Reid matched._

_Where the hell had that thought come from? Dave blamed the concussion._

_“I can feel it.” Reid’s voice held an edge of panic. “I can feel the fire. Get me out.”_

_“I’m getting you out.” Dave hooked his arms under Reid’s shoulders. “Here we go.”_

_Dave pulled, ignoring the blinding agony in his ribs. He had only managed to move Reid out a little ways when the kid screamed._

_“Stop! Stop!”_

_Dave stopped pulling, shocked._

_“What is it?”_

_Reid pressed the back of his head against Dave’s chest._

_“My stomach,” he gasped, “there’s something...”_

_Dave looked at Reid’s stomach, where blood was spreading from the spot where the dashboard was pressing into him._

_“I– I think there’s something in there,” Reid croaked._

_Fuck. Dave had to find a way to dislodge him before he could get him out, but the fire was spreading fast. He may not have time..._

_Reid proved his point._

_“Rossi, it’s burning!” the kid screamed. “It’s burning!”_

_There wasn’t time to dislodge him. Dave made a decision._

_“I’m sorry, kiddo,” he whispered into Reid’s hair and pulled._


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

_Reid screamed as he came free of the car._

_Dave dragged him a few feet away and laid him down on the leaf-covered ground as gently as he could. He looked back at the car, and sure enough, a bloody plastic shard was sticking out from the dashboard. The fire spread to Reid’s seat moments later. Dave tried not to imagine the outcome had he taken the time to properly dislodge him._

_His concussion finally made itself known and he dropped to his hands and knees and retched into the leaves, ribs burning with every movement. Right, he was hurt, too. Or maybe that was just the stress of the situation._

_Reid was on his side, curled in on himself, hands grasping at the newly-made, bleeding wound in his stomach. Dave pushed him onto his back and examined the tear._

_It started a few inches above Reid’s navel and extended down to his hip and it was deep. The edges were ragged and torn, but Dave supposed that was what happened when the penetrating object was literally ripped out._

_He pressed down on the gash with both hands. Reid whimpered at the contact. Dave’s heart broke at the sound._

_“I’m sorry, Spencer. I know it hurts,” he said in as soothing a voice as he could muster._

_Reid mumbled something in response._

_“What was that, kiddo?”_

_“Should’ve taken the Metro,” Reid repeated._

_Dave laughed._

_“Fine, you win this debate.”_

_Reid flashed him a weak smile._

_Dave looked at Reid’s face. He was pale, too pale. The kid needed help._

_Dave pulled out his cellphone, hoping, maybe..._

_No service._

_“Fuck!”_

_Reid startled sluggishly._

_“What is it?”_

_Dave felt a stab of guilt for scaring the kid._

_“It’s nothing.”_

_Reid studied him through cloudy eyes._

_“There’s no service, is there?”_

_Dammit. Even badly hurt, Reid was still profiling._

_“No,” Dave confirmed._

_“Maybe someone will drive by,” Reid offered._

_Dave glanced at his somehow still intact watch. 11:29 PM. The middle of the night on some backroads highway. The chances of someone driving by were incredibly slim._

_But, then again, if someone did drive by, then the burning car would definitely serve as a beacon. Maybe there was a chance._

_“Maybe.”_

_They lapsed into silence. It was a cold night, and Dave shivered despite the fire behind him. His worry for Reid heightened. He was already so weak. He was already shivering. If he got hypothermia..._

_“JDV4697.”_

_“What?”_

_Was Reid just talking nonsense. Maybe the pain was making him delirious._

_“The tags,” Reid said, “on the truck.”_

_Of course. Of course Reid could memorize the plates even as the truck was hitting them._

_“We can have Garcia run it later,” Dave told him. “If nothing else this is a hit and run.”_

_Reid hummed in response, his eyes closed._

_No, that wasn’t happening. Dave tapped his cheek, smearing a small amount of blood on his face._

_“Spencer, I need you keep your eyes open.”_

_Reid cracked his eyes open._

_“I’m tired,” he mumbled._

_Fuck. Dave had to find a way to keep him awake._

_“Hey, Spencer.” Dave forced a lighthearted voice. “What was that joke you were telling me earlier?”_

_Reid’s weary eyes may as well have lit up._

_“Knock knock.”_

_“Who’s there?”_

_“Folie ád.”_

_“Folie ád who?”_

_“Folie á Deux. A common delusion shared between two people.”_

_Dave smiled at him._

_“That’s great, kiddo. You got any other jokes?”_

_That was how they passed the time for a while. Reid exhausted his arsenal of jokes, many of which Dave didn’t understand but still laughed at for the kid’s sake._

_Reid’s voice got quieter the longer he talked and he soon began to stumble over and repeat words. Dave was patient with him, but his worry was growing with each slip up._

_“Remember when you told that one at the recruitment drive, Spencer? I swear the students thought you were from another planet.”_

_Reid didn’t respond. His eyes were closed again._

_Dave tapped his cheek again._

_“No, Spencer. Eyes open, remember?”_

_Reid remained still. His skin was deathly pale and the chilling air had turned it cold to the touch. He looked dead._

_Shoving down his panic, Dave put his numbing fingers to Reid’s neck and sighed in relief when he felt a thready pulse._

_But his relief was short-lived, because Reid had passed out. His blood was covering Dave’s hands and soaked into the leaves underneath his body._

_His shivering was slowing down and his lips were turning blue. Hypothermia should have taken longer to set in, but Dave guessed that the blood loss was making Reid too weak to fight it off._

_He needed help. He needed it now._

_But none was coming. They were in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night with no service. Reid could die out here..._

_No._

_He couldn’t think like that._

_But it was true. Reid wouldn’t make it to morning. He would be lucky if he lasted another hour._

_Dave would have to explain what happened to the team. David Rossi wasn’t scared of a lot of things, but that terrified him. Would they blame him? He would blame himself._

_Reid won’t have been killed in action. His picture wouldn’t be on the Wall. He wouldn’t be celebrated as the hero that he should be remembered as. He would be just another person killed in a car accident._

_Dave couldn’t stand the thought._

_He was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he almost didn’t hear the voice calling from the road._

_“Hey! Do you need some help?”_

_Dave regarded the fact that the couple was on the road that night as nothing short of a miracle._

_The husband stayed with them while the wife drove to find a cell signal._

_Everything blurred together after that._

_The paramedics arriving._

_Reid being loaded into the ambulance._

_The ride to the hospital._

_The stitches in his head._

_At some point a phone was put into his hand and Dave automatically dialed the familiar number._

_“Hotchner.”_

_“Aaron...”_

•••

“That’s it.”

Dave sat back and studied the faces of his teammates.

Hotch looked impassive to the untrained eye, but Dave could see the deep concern below the surface.

Morgan’s face was outwardly concerned, his tense gaze fixed on the floor.

Garcia has tears in her eyes and was gripping Morgan’s hand like a lifeline.

JJ looked nauseated, staring blankly into space.

Prentiss wore a strained look, her hand resting on JJ’s arm.

If Reid had been there, he would likely have reminded Dave of the moratorium on inter-team profiling.

Funny how the kid constantly brought up the rule when he so often broke it himself. They all did. It was more of a suggestion than a regulation at that point.

Dave looked at the clock. That seemed to be becoming a habit. 2:01 AM. The whole story, mental breakdowns and all, had only taken an hour.

Reid had been in surgery for about two hours now. A niggling voice in Dave’s head told him that that was bad. How bad was Reid’s wound that it took two hours to patch up.

Another voice told him that it was good. It was a good thing because a doctor hadn’t come out to tell them that Reid had died on the table. Dave chose to hold onto the second voice.

All they could do was wait now. Wait and hope and pray that their kid would be okay.


	5. Chapter 5

The team had spread out around the waiting room after Dave had finished his story. He and Hotch had taken up positions on either side of the door, ready to intercept any doctor that came with news. JJ and Prentiss were sitting side by side along one wall and Garcia sat across from them, Morgan standing at her side with a hand on her shoulder.

Dave was on his second cup of coffee that night when JJ approached him.

Wordlessly, she held a cup of water out to him. Dave looked at her, quizzically.

“You need to drink something other than coffee,” she told him. “You know as well as any of us that too much is bad for a concussion.”

She was right. Concussions seemed to be fairly common in their line of work. How many times had Dave told his caffeine-addicted teammates to take it easy on the coffee?

It seemed that all the roles were being reversed that night.

“Since when is it the team’s job to take care of me?” Dave questioned as he took the cup from her.

JJ smiled at him, ruefully.

“Always has been.”

Dave nodded, touched. He returned her smile.

“Thanks, JJ.”

JJ rested a hand on his that was holding the cup for a moment, then returned to her seat.

Dave thought about her words. As much as he liked to pretend that he was the ever-strong member of the team that the others went to for guidance, the relationship did work both ways. They had been there for him for the Galen case, for the case in Commack, for Carolyn’s death. They took care of him just as much as he took care of them. It was a comforting thought.

“Spencer Reid?”

Dave was pulled from his musings when a doctor appeared in the doorway to the waiting room. The team immediately arranged themselves in a half-circle around him.

“Yes,” five voices said in unison.

“Is he okay?” Garcia asked at the same time.

The doctor was a man in his mid-forties with graying hair and a kind face, but Dave hardly noticed these things before his eyes were drawn to the doctor’s bloody scrubs. That could be either very normal or very bad.

The doctor only took a few seconds to answer, but to Dave it felt like an eternity.

“He’s very lucky.”

The sheer amount of relief that those three words brought could have knocked Dave off his feet. The tension drained out of his body and he watched his team as smiles broke out across their faces. It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted off of their collective shoulders.

The doctor continued.

“The wound in Mr. Reid’s–“

“Dr. Reid,” Hotch corrected, automatically.

“In Dr. Reid’s,” The doctor made sure to emphasize Reid’s title. “abdomen went through the muscular layer and into his small bowel, but fortunately, we were able to repair the damage. He lost a lot of blood but he should make a full recovery. Additionally, Dr. Reid has some second-degree burns on his legs, a mild concussion, and was in the early stages of hypothermia when he was brought in, but there’s no permanent damage.”

“Can we see him?” Morgan spoke up.

“He’s still under anesthesia, but you are more than welcome to come back tomorrow.”

Hotch shook the doctor’s hand.

“Thank you, doctor.”

The doctor nodded and left. Once he was gone, Hotch turned to the team.

“Everyone should go home and get some rest. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

The team began to file out. Garcia hugged Dave and Morgan clapped him on the shoulder as the two of them went by. JJ and Prentiss each touched his arm as they followed. Hotch put a hand on his shoulder when just they were left.

“I’ll drive you home.”

“Thanks. You go on ahead, I’ll catch up.”

Hotch looked at Dave questioningly, but nodded nonetheless.

“Alright, I’ll bring the car around.”

Hotch left down the corridor. Dave waited a moment before he tipped his head back and let out a shuddering breath.

He had come so close to losing Reid that night. Reid, who he had at first actively avoided, but now couldn’t imagine a world without.

“Thank you,” Dave whispered into the air. If Reid was still alive, then there must have been someone out there to hear it.

Dave brushed away the sudden wetness in his eyes and followed Hotch.

•••

It was nearly four AM when Hotch dropped Dave off at his home. At least there was a chance that Dave would be able to get a little sleep, secure in the knowledge that Reid was okay.

With that uncertainty no longer hanging over his head, Dave suddenly realized how hungry he was. The last thing he had eaten had been the sandwich from the university’s dining hall and that was before the crash...

Suddenly Dave didn’t like the silence very much anymore. He turned on his record player and the sound of the ending notes of Twilight Time followed him into the kitchen.

He had just opened his fridge when a new song began.

_They asked me how I knew_

_My true love was true_

Dave quickly shut off the music as his heart rate quickened and his breathing sped up.

Memories of the crash flashed in his mind’s eye.

He would never be able to listen to that song again.

•••

Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains that covered the windows of the hospital recovery room.

Dave was reading when Reid opened his eyes.

“ _Lord of the Flies_?”

He looked up at the sound of Reid’s quiet voice and put down his book.

“Don’t sound so surprised, kid,” Dave said, smiling, “Not all of us read Tolstoy in Russian.”

Reid’s voice may not have been strong, but it was far better than it had been hours before. It was good to hear it.

“I guess someone drove by,” Reid spoke again.

“They did. Welcome back.”

“How long was I out?”

“Just since last night.”

Reid lifted his head and studied him closely.

“How long have you been there?”

Dave glanced at his watch.

“About two hours now.”

Reid raised his eyebrows.

“Hey, you’re the one who’s been asleep for ten,” Dave told him.

“I got cut open, what’s your excuse?”

Dave flinched at Reid’s crude description of his injuries but forced a weak laugh. He nodded towards Reid’s stomach.

“How does it feel?”

Reid grimaced slightly.

“Honestly? I’m so numb I’m not sure I still have a midsection.”

Dave smiled.

“Don’t worry, it’s still there. And you’re going to have a badass scar.”

Reid laid his head back down.

“Yay,” he deadpanned.

Reid glanced at the bandage on Dave’s forehead.

“How’s your head?”

“Fine, just a concussion. Not even a bad one,” Dave lied.

Reid gave him a cynical look, but didn’t press him.

“Sorry about the car,” he said instead.

“I’m glad it was the car.”

“It was a nice car.”

“You’re a nicer person.”

Reid smiled.

“Thanks. And thanks for worrying.”

“It’s my job. Thanks for being too stubborn to die.”

Reid started to laugh, but winced. Dave put a hand on his arm.

“I felt that,” Reid groaned.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, don’t make me laugh.”

Dave grimaced apologetically.

“Sorry.”

But that wasn’t all he was sorry for.

“Look, Spencer–“

“Don’t,” Reid cut him off. “It’s not your fault.”

Dammit. Here he goes.

“Spencer–“

“No.” He was cut off again. “If you hadn’t of done what you did, I would have burned to death. I don’t blame you for anything and neither should you.”

Dave knew that Reid was right. Just as Hotch had been. And hey, here was Reid right in front of him, alive and breathing, so he must have done something right. Dave may never have been able to fully shake the guilt, but Reid’s words were exactly what he had needed to start healing.

He squeezed Reid’s hand.

“Thanks, kiddo. Now, you get better. That’s an order.”

Reid smiled.

“We’re off duty. You can’t give me orders.”

“Watch me.”

Reid laughed lightly. Dave released his hand and held up his book.

“You want to read?” he offered.

“Okay.”

Reid settled himself more comfortably in the bed. Dave leaned back in his chair and opened the book to the first page.

“ _The boy with fair hair lowered himself down the last few feet of rock and began to pick his way toward the lagoon..._ ”


End file.
